


Somewhere Along

by Glitter_Lisp



Series: Somewhere Along [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Lisp/pseuds/Glitter_Lisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot Spencer spent three months in a good place. Four years later, all he wants is to get back there. He's just not sure that he should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Along

Eliot Spencer gets out of juvie the day he turns eighteen. The only thing he has is a new pair of jeans, a hand-me-down jacket, and the t-shirt he was wearing when he came in. It’s a good thing he hasn’t grown much since he was fourteen. 

He’s also got fifty bucks in his pocket, courtesy of one of the cooks, Toby, who took a shine to him over the last few years.

They drop him off at a bus station and give him a schedule. They wait until he gets on to leave, and he waits until they leave to get off.

He has things to do in this city.

* * *

The first of those things is to fix his hair. He smiles sweetly at some girl with rainbow-colored hair ties on her wrist and she gladly hands one over and even offers him a hairbrush so he can pull half his hair back from his face. He kisses the back of her hand in thanks and walks away too quickly for her to gather her thoughts, much less notice he didn’t return the hairbrush.

He stuffs it in one of the big pockets of his jacket and then keeps his hands there. It’s cold out, March in Boston. Pulling his hair back might mean that he can see more easily, but it also has his ears slowly going numb with nothing to protect them from the wind.

He breaks his fifty bucks at a thrift store on three dollars worth of warmth in the form of an old knit cap and some stained gloves. He doesn’t spare a glance for anything else in the store, simply buys his things, gives the old woman at the register a blinding smile, and leaves. He wants to stay in the warmth a while longer, but he has somewhere to be.

He wonders if Alec will remember him. It’s only been four years, but the kid was seven the last time they saw each other, and it’s not like Eliot was around for long before he had to go.

Parker, he knows, won’t remember him, even though she was ten when he left. But she might remember pieces of him. Maybe she’ll remember that he used to sing. Maybe she and Alec still talk about him. Maybe they’ll be waiting for him.

He tells himself that he doesn’t care if they aren’t, the same way he doesn’t care that no one even mentioned taking him back to them. He doesn’t care that one of the _guards_ had to drop him off at a damn bus station. He doesn’t care that Nate wasn’t there. Or Sophie.

Or Quinn.

Or Damien.

He rips the gloves off his hands and tosses them to a pregnant woman with dirty hair sitting on a bench and crying. She doesn’t even look up, just fumbles to get them on. Eliot leaves his hands out of his pockets now and lets them freeze in the air.

* * *

It takes him almost an hour to walk across town to find some rundown pub half underground. He wants to hesitate. He wants to walk around for another few hours. He wants to have more time to work up his courage to go inside, but he’s too cold to be dramatic.

The warm air is such a shock he almost gags. The heat feels oppressive. No one gives him more than a cursory glance when he enters, but he still feels like all eyes are on him. He would have gone in through the back, but he doesn’t have his key anymore and his hands are shaking too badly to pick the lock.

Instead, he heads straight to the staircase in the back and starts climbing. It’s when he reaches the apartment door that whatever autopilot has gotten him this far suddenly shuts off, and he finds that it’s up to him to actually open the door. 

He finds that he can’t do it. He doesn’t feel any panic, no dread. He just can’t seem to pull his hand out of his pocket.

After several minutes, he exhales through clenched teeth and finally forces his hand through the air that has gone solid around him to rest it on the doorknob.

Then there’s another five minutes of struggle to turn it. He knows that he can. He can even guess what will happen if he goes inside. Nate will clap him on the shoulder. Sophie will fuss. Park and Alec will… they’ll…

His hand slips off the slick doorknob and he stumbles away. He shouldn’t have come here. He can pretend as much as he wants, but he told Sophie not to let the kids come see him. He told Nate the same about Sophie.

He scrubs at his face and tries to make himself breath normally, and he tells himself that the wetness of his face is just the sweat from his palms. He shouldn’t have come here. He knew he shouldn’t come here, but he did anyways because even after four years those three months were the best in his life and he can’t imagine being anywhere else, his feet just took him here because he _wants_  so badly but Damien’s voice was telling him that wanting doesn’t get you anywhere and so he had to come, he had to, he just-

“Eliot?”

He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to run back to that bus stop and go far away.

Instead, he turns around, and there’s a kid there, a ridiculously tall kid in some weird, colorful scarf and a backpack over his shoulder and wide eyes filling with tears.

“Is that you?”

He should say no and leave, because even though Alec would know it was a lie the kid would let him go. Alec was always good like that. Eliot should just disappear the way the people at juvie wanted him to, the way Damien wanted him to, the way, four years ago, he wanted to.

His hands drop and his arms open before he can stop himself, and Alec is just there, wrapped around him like and octopus with his face buried in Eliot’s chest. He can’t tell which of them is shaking, but Alec is clumsily patting his hair and saying that it’s okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eliot keeps chanting. Alec just hugs him tighter.

“I _missed_ you,” he says. “I missed you a lot. I’m glad you’re back. Please don’t go again. Please stay.”

Eliot draws in a slow, ragged breath and pulls the kid even tighter against him. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”


End file.
